


Boarding Area Chance Encounters

by drabbles



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, my flight got delayed and its 2 am and you're keeping me company au, they're strangers here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21668815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drabbles/pseuds/drabbles
Summary: Veronica starts hating Westerberg Airlines.This is the seventh time that her flight’s been delayed, and it’s 2 am, and she’s tired, and she has no one to talk to… and then she meets this redhead sitting across from her isle in the boarding area. Redhead looks like she just got out of a photo-shoot which is, for the record, completely unfair.But she’s witty, charming, and she makes Veronica change her mind about delayed flights at 2 in the morning.
Relationships: Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 25
Kudos: 262





	Boarding Area Chance Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> I know I said I was working on a lot of things and it's true, but honestly?? I have no idea how I managed to get this out I just finished writing it last night and I apologize for any mistakes as I have not beta read any of these. 
> 
> (ps. thanks for all the support for the roommates au <3)

_“Attention passengers. Attention passengers. We regret to inform you that flight A256 bound for New York, flight A256 bound for New York, has been delayed due to unforeseen circumstances.”_

Veronica bristled. She rummaged for her ticket in her back pocket to check her flight number. She halted.

 _Shit_ , that was her flight.

She looked around the boarding area for her gate number and found that it was mostly empty, save for a few passengers who looked as irritated as she was. She rolled her eyes.

Waking up at 12 am to prepare for this bullshit was so not worth it.

The good thing was that her boarding gate was placed conveniently next to a Starbucks stall.

A nice cup of joe should keep her awake until her flight. Veronica would never risk falling asleep at an airport, no matter how many times she’s travelled before. She usually slept i the aircraft itself, right when her motion sickness pill would kick in. She already took the pill a while ago, which means that it would take effect any minute now.

Veronica needed the caffeine if she wanted to stay awake.

She slowly dragged her luggage to her flight’s boarding gate. She groaned when she saw that the Starbucks didn’t have any chairs of their own.

These metallic airport benches were deathly uncomfortable. They would always make Veronica’s ass feel cold and flatter than it already was.

_“Attention passengers. Flight A256 bound for New York will be delayed for six hours due to inclement weather in… New York. Thank you.”_

“6 fucking hours!?” She whispered harshly. “Dear diary, today I spent over six hours in a freaking airport because apparently the universe hates me!”

Veronica sagged. She left her luggage near the bench and proceeded to order an espresso with a cream cheese bagel from the Starbucks.

Two other women fell in line behind her, muttering amongst themselves about how their flight to Los Angeles had been delayed too. She overheard their airline—Westerberg Airlines. The culprit, the stupid piece of shit. At that instant, Veronica swore never again to book a flight from Westerberg. This is the seventh time she has experienced a delayed flight from this airline and almost all those flights were delayed by two hours or more. This six-hour delay was by far the worse one.

_Inclement weather, my ass._

The barista gave her a weird look when she offered Veronica her order.

Veronica wordlessly took her bagel and coffee.

She knows her hair is doing an amazing impression of the abominable snowman’s mane, but frankly she’s too tired to give a damn.

When she returned to her bench, she saw a young woman had occupied the one in front of hers. She was sipping a large cup of coffee from Starbucks, with a book cradled against her lap.

Strange, Veronica mused, she didn’t notice her there before. She shrugged and quietly took her seat.

Veronica looked over the glass panes.

Aircraft hangar.

Aircrew.

Airplanes.

Boring, boring, and boring.

Nothing she’s never seen before.

She angrily tore a piece off her bagel.

The only thing interesting in this boarding area was the amount of cream cheese the Starbucks employee put on her bagel. Unless…

Veronica chanced a peak at the woman sitting in front of her.

Huh. Veronica believes that this the first time she’s ever seen someone wear a red blazer at an airport. However, it does compliment her strawberry blonde hair which looks like it had just been touched by a literal angel, judging by the way it’s soft curls seemed to defy the laws of gravity around her face--which, hey, she has a pretty face. Lucky her. She’s also wearing high heels and a skirt. Who travels wearing heels and a skirt? She doesn’t look like she belongs in economy. Business class was obviously more her speed. 

The woman has her nose buried in a book. Veronica can’t quite make out the title but the art on it’s cover looks familiar to her.

Veronica takes a sip of her coffee.

Reading a book is a nice way to pass the time, she muses. She regrets not bringing one with her. She was in a hurry to pack this morning; all her stuff had been haphazardly squeezed into her check-in luggage.

All efforts have been wasted of course, now that she knows her flight’s been delayed.

Oh well.

Veronica looks out the glass panes once again, just in time to see one of the airplanes take off.

God, she wished she was in that plane. She wished she were anything but here.

The young woman in front of her turns a page, and Veronica manages to get a glimpse of the book’s cover.

She’s surprised to find that the girl’s reading The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath.

Veronica was expecting something with much lighter tones. She decides to start calling her Redhead.

She spends the next few minutes trying to think of what Redhead is like; her judgements are based solely on the other women’s appearance, of course.

Her sense of fashion tells the brunette that she’s some sort of eccentric, billionaire designer on her way to New York for fashion week.

Redhead reminds Veronica of a younger version of Miranda Priestly from the Devil Wears Prada; a fact that Veronica knows thanks to Martha Dunnstock’s never-ending supply of feel good movies from the early 2000s.

Veronica sips from her coffee again.

Redhead does the same, although her eyes never leave the page.

The brunette envies how the other girl has already lost herself in the chasms of Sylvia Plath’s narrative, while Veronica remains idle on an airport with her rear firmly planted on a metal bench with nothing but a bagel to keep her company.

She examines the girl again, this time paying much closer attention. Huh. Redhead is _really_ pretty. She has one of those model-faces from Instagram. Whatever.

Redhead looks like she’s sitting in a bench somewhere at Central Square instead of a boarding area at two in the morning.

Her clothes, along with the hot cup of coffee beside her, suggests that it’s probably mid-autumn with a twenty-seven percent chance of rain. Veronica starts to picture Redhead sitting underneath a tall tree; all the wonderful shades of autumn would play around her visage. She’d probably look prettier than she already was.

The color red suits her.

Veronica looks away. She’s not being creepy or anything…

Redhead flips another page. Sips her coffee.

Veronica hates how she’s now hyper-aware of everything Redhead does.

She was definitely being creepy. 

Veronica inwardly groans.

She gulps a big portion of her coffee, but it ends up rushing into the wrong hole and before she can process what was happening. she’s hacking up a series of coughs loud enough to catch even the barista’s attention from the Starbucks stall.

Veronica panics, and she tries her best to stop the fit of coughs by drinking even more coffee.

“You’re not dying or anything, are you?”

Veronica’s shoulders tremble as she coughs. She looks up, and to her horror, its Redhead. She’s looking directly at Veronica, and Veronica finds herself looking back because there’s a hint of blue and green in those faint grey eyes. She’s not actually sure what color they are, she only knows it’s light enough to make the darkness of her pupils firmly stand out.

“I’m—” Veronica clears her throat, “I’m fine. Sorry. Excuse me.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“Wrong pipe.” She clears her throat again. The lump in her throat is gone now.

“Alright.” Redhead says, and Veronica can tell that’s that. The woman looks down at her book again.

That would be the only exchange the two would have for all of six hours.

They’d go their separate ways and Veronica would never see this woman again in her life.

The only reminder she would have of her would be the color red.

That is, it should have been, had she not gathered the guts to say, “The Bell Jar, huh?”

Redhead curiously looks up from her book. “Pardon?”

“The novel you’re reading, it’s The Bell Jar.”

“If that wasn’t already obvious, yes.”

Red is the color of feistiness for a reason, Veronica muses. She racks her brain for something interesting to say.

“If you expect nothing from somebody, you are never disappointed,” Veronica mentally smacks herself for quoting the most generic line from the book to spark conversation. “Of course, expecting nothing from an airline we’ve both paid for is kind of difficult to do.”

Redhead chuckles, but it sounds more condescending than friendly. “I’ve learned to expect the worse instead of nothing. I find it more… practical. It keeps me prepared, like how I prepared this book in case the flight does get delayed,” she gestures at her book. “And I was right.”

“Okay, that’s a good one. That should be in the book.” Veronica smiles and the other girl shrugs. “I like to think that there’s good in everyone though, so I always expect good things. Although, I probably should stop doing that if it involves Westerberg Airlines.”

Redhead puts the book down. She crosses her legs. The barest hint of a smile tugs at her lips. “It’s 2 am, and my flight’s been delayed for six hours. I think it’s safe to say that this is one of the worse possible scenarios. Not even Sylvia Plath can make this situation feel less bleak.”

Veronica chuckles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” She knows she’s being a tad too forward, but there’s something about Redhead that makes Veronica forget her usual hesitancy, or her manners for that matter. 

“That’s because I never let you.” Redhead tells her.

“I’m Veronica,” she simply says, entirely too lost in the stranger’s eyes.

She didn’t think it would be possible to swoon this early in conversation, especially at this one, considering it was basically small talk.

Veronica sips from her cup again.

A beat passes and Redhead softly replies, “Heather.”

Veronica grins, all toothy and cheeky, because she thinks Redhead’s name is pretty and she’s glad that she has managed to get a name from the other girl in the first place.

“Nice to meet you, Heather.”

She hears Heather groan. “Stop smiling. You’re making it look like it isn’t 2 am and we aren’t stranded at an airport.” She drinks from her cup. “Nothing in this situation is worth smiling about.”

Veronica bites her lip to stop another grin from erupting. She shakes her head, “Sorry, it’s just that, what is it that makes Sylvia Plath so magnetic?”

Heather pauses. Her crossed leg swings to a silent rhythm, indicating the implausible assumption that she could be interested in the conversation. Veronica feels a kaleidoscope of butterflies rush to her stomach.

“Are you seriously asking me that? Me, the girl who chose to bring The Bell Jar at an airport?”

Veronica nods at her.

“I’d give you a myriad of answers, but none of those could hardly justify why.”

“Well,” Veronica looks at her wrist watch. “We’ve got the time.”

And Heather humors her.

* * *

An hour in the conversation, and Veronica can tell that she’s in the presence of good company.

Heather is witty, funny, and charming.

There’s an air of superiority about her and it’s quite plain to see that she holds herself in high regard however, her humor and sarcasm makes up for it. She’s made Veronica laugh more times than she can count now, and she can tell that the other girl is barely trying at all.

Heather would glance at her phone from time to time. She was texting someone, but she’s never made Veronica feel left out.

It’s two hours into the conversation when Veronica starts to feel comfortable around the redhead.

She starts telling Heather about Jason Dean, an ex-boyfriend whom she used to date during her juvenile years of high school, and about how they’ve both threatened to blow up her school once.

She tells Heather about how they end up being best friends instead after they get sent to delinquent prison for fake bomb threats.

Heather finds her story positively ridiculous, she hardly believes Veronica at all, but Veronica ends up calling JD at the dead of night just to confirm the authenticity of the story.

JD does, before he threatens to block Veronica’s number for calling him during the ungodly hour. Heather then looks at her, wide-eyed, and just goes, “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.”

In exchange, Heather tells her about how she has two best friends who are also named Heather.

Veronica scrunches her nose at this, because having two best friends who share the same name as you do sounds annoying.

Heather tells her that it’s her best friends who are annoying, but they’ve known each other since pre-school, and that they’re practically family.

Heather has some even more hilarious stories to share with Veronica about her best friends. They call their group The Heathers, and Veronica thinks it’s a fitting name for a group of pretty girls like them.

Three hours into the conversation.

She can tell that the other girl is growing more comfortable around her, because now she’s not afraid to swear in front of Veronica. Veronica finds out that the redhead likes to swear _a lot_. She thinks it cute, in its own charming way.

Heather keeps throwing her casual compliments.

It’s giving Veronica mixed signals.

However, all she can really focus on are Heather’s eyes. She can't tell what color they are, because the airport lighting is pretty bad and also because she gets very distracted by the sound of Heather’s voice. She has a deep, sultry voice that has a pleasant lilt to it and Veronica tries her best to engrave the sound in her memory. 

Veronica starts to lose track of time.

At this point, she’s already hearing the piano intro for Bon Iver’s I Can’t Make You Love Me in her head, and she thinks she might be going insane because Heather doesn’t look real.

All she knows is that her six hours with Redhead will soon be over, and that she’ll probably never see this woman again in her life.

Veronica starts hoping that they accidentally bump into one another again, but next time it happens, it happens in the cold and busy streets of New York. Veronica knows New York like the back of her hand, and she wants to take Heather out on a date that would top all of the dates she’s been on before. 

If accidentally meeting Heather happened in this sleepy boarding area once, then it can surely happen again.

Her chest stirs something fierce when Heather tells her that she isn’t going to New York.

“I’m actually bound for Los Angeles.”

“Oh,” Veronica tries to hide her disappointment. “I just assumed since, you know, you were in this boarding area, that you were headed to New York as well.”

Heather gestures at the Starbucks near them. “That’s the only reason why I chose to sit here,” she smiles. “What made me stay however, is because of a different reason entirely.”

Veronica can feel her face flush. She doesn’t look Heather in the eye. “I’m glad you did.”

“As am I.”

* * *

When they part ways, the sun is almost rising.

It lights Heather’s hair on fire, and Veronica can finally tell what color her eyes are. It’s a pale shade of blue that makes it look nearly grey. She thinks it’s beautiful.

_“Attention passengers. Flight D895 bound for Los Angeles is now boarding. All passengers bound for flight D895 please proceed to boarding gate A10. Thank you.”_

“A10? That’s on the other side of the building.” Veronica slowly says.

“It’s not too far. A small price to pay for excellent company, you could say.” Heather stands up and picks up her luggage. Veronica takes note of their height difference.

“I should walk you there,” she manages. “It’s the least I can do. Y’know, in exchange for you listening to all my stories.” She sheepishly scratches the back of her neck.

“I’d love that, Veronica,” Heather replies, and it makes Veronica’s own heart soar. “But I’m afraid my entourage will be here any minute now. They’re going to chew my ass off for disappearing for six hours.”

“Entourage?”

“Heather! Jesus fucking Christ, let’s go!”

Veronica whips her head towards the direction of the voice, and she sees two women standing a few feet away from them.

The woman with jet black hair was tapping her heel impatiently against the linoleum floor, while the one with light blonde hair was waving shyly at them. Veronica swears they look familiar.

“Speak of the devil,” Heather grumbles. “Listen, Veronica, this was lovely, and I really do hope we see each other again someday.”

“I do too,” Veronica replies, voice a little breathless.

Heather pulls out a pen from her blazer and scribbles something on her copy of The Bell Jar.

“Here,” she shoves the book in Veronica’s hands. “Keep it.”

“What?”

“Keep it.” Heather repeats. “Give it back to me someday.”

Veronica stares at the other girl. “Right, but—but how am I going to do that?”

Heather grips her luggage. “I don’t know. We’ve met here, once, purely out of chance. I’m willing to wager we’ll both be given that chance again. What about you?”

It’s the first time since they’ve spoken to each other that Veronica’s seen the other girl look so nervous.

Veronica bites her lip and scrambles for a reply.

_“Attention passengers. Flight D895 bound for Los Angeles is now boarding. All passengers for flight D895 please proceed to boarding gate A10. Thank you.”_

“Heather, we really need to go! Now!” It’s the dark-haired woman again, motioning for Heather to follow.

Veronica bursts into action. “I’ll hold on to this,” she hugs the novel close to her chest. “And when the time does come, I’ll be more than willing to take that chance.”

“Good to know,” Heather beams. Her cheeks are shaded pink. She starts walking away.

Veronica briefly stares at the empty bench that Heather had once occupied.

Her boarding gate looks a lot emptier now.

“Veronica!” She looks towards the direction of the voice calling her, and it’s Heather shyly waving at her. The two other women were looking back at Veronica too.

Veronica waves at Heather with a tight-lipped smile.

She was going to miss Redhead’s company.

She wasn’t even sure if they’d ever meet again.

“It’s Chandler, by the way!” The other women yells.

“Chandler?” Veronica asks.

“My last name, Chandler. Heather Chandler.”

“Oh!” Veronica laughs. “I’m Sawyer! Veronica Sawyer.”

“I’ll see you soon, Veronica Sawyer!” With that, Heather finally starts walking away.

“I’ll see you around, Heather Chandler.” Veronica softly says, still waving at the other girl’s retreating form.

She hears the faint voice of Heather’s companion. “Great, now the entire airport knows who you are. Smooth, Heather, real smooth.”

She hears Heather’s distinct voice counter, “Shut up, Heather.”

“I think it’s romantic,” the third person from the group chirps in.

The trio chatters animatedly among themselves. Veronica can barely hear them anymore. 

_“Attention passengers. Flight A256 bound for New York is now boarding.”_

It takes Veronica a minute to realize that those two other women were the ones who fell in line behind her at the Starbucks.

It takes another full minute for her to piece the jigsaw puzzles together—those two were the _other_ Heathers.

Heather had been with them this entire time. She didn’t need the company, she was with her two best friends who had oddly left her alone to talk with Veronica.

The trio were probably falling in line together to grab coffee, but Veronica had intercepted before her other friends could order, and so Heather sat down near Starbucks to wait.

Which coincidentally... happened to be Veronica’s boarding gate.

Veronica opened Heather’s copy of The Bell Jar.

There, at the front page, was Heather's cellphone number, along with a brief note that said:

_Don’t lose this copy. Return it to me, or I will crucify you._

_We’ll see each other again. I just know it._

_When we do, let’s get some coffee._

_xoxo, Heather C._

It was written in red ink.

Veronica finds it fitting.

_“Attention passengers. Flight A256 bound for New York is now boarding. Passengers bound for flight A256 bound for New York please proceed to boarding gate B12. We apologize for the inconvenience and we thank you for bearing with us.”_

“No, thank you.” Veronica mutters with a smile.

Maybe Westerberg Airlines weren’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr <3 
> 
> drabsyo . tumblr . com
> 
> thoughts? C:
> 
> -drabsyo


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